Texas Red

Years ago, when Wichita was filled with lady's of the night and cowhands crossed the prairie driving herds of longhorn from Houston to the stockyards in Chicago there was one lone cowboy that had decided to make one of the ladies an honest woman.

His name was Jeb Harding but they called him Texas Red because of his burnt orange hair that always sparkled like fire in the Texas sun.

He had taken a liking to Bess Armstrong, one of the women that worked at a downtown bordello. Each summer when he was in town, Bess was on his arm.

"Morning Jeb," Bess rolled across the bed, wrapped her leg over him and molded herself against his lean body. "You are a natural when it comes to fucking, Lordy! I don't think I've ever been so well taken care of in all the years I've been working here."

Jeb just grinned, grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her head, and pulled her down to him, locking his mouth with hers.

"You ain't been working here that long, you ain't that old!"

"It sure seems like a long time though," she laughed and pushed his hands away.

Jeb lay on the bed and watched as Bess started to dress. She didn't wear much. With her kind of work a corset, garter belt, and some cotton stockings was all that she needed and even that got in the way at times.

"Here, let me help with those stays." Jeb sat up on the bed, started working some twenty hook and eye fasteners, brushing her hair to one side, then turned her around, and adjusted her breasts in the cups so they looked the same as they did when he first saw her.

He slapped his hat against his jeans then put it on his head. He headed down the stairs after handing Bess a few coins.

"Morning Jeb! Breakfast? Flapjacks, eggs, fatback, what are you in mind for this morning?" "I'll take a couple of eggs and a few of those flapjacks. It all smells good this morning Duffy."

"Coming up, I'll get you some water unless you want something stronger."

"Nope, too early, your grub and some water. That's all I need."

One summer he bought a small one-bedroom house complete with outhouse and a bathtub on a makeshift back porch. Bess surrounded the outside of the porch with chicken wire and planted ivy at its base. Soon the ivy had taken over and created the privacy they needed so they could bathe.

Texas Red had to return to Houston as he always did when the leaves turned but before he left he asked Bess to be his wife. He also asked her to quit working at the saloon, which she promised she would.

Bess returned to her worldly ways once Tex was out of town but instead of entertaining her clients at the saloon, she brought them to the house, and gave up her charms to the men in Red's bed.

The following spring there was a blizzard that covered most of the prairie with up to two foot of snow. The winds howled and blew the powdered flakes into drifts that stood over ten feet high in some areas.

The cowhands and the steers were trapped for days holding up near the Missouri border. Tex pulled his hat down over his ears and wrapped a bandana across his nose and mouth to ward off the fierce winds. His horse lost its bearings as it slid on the ice and plummeted into a ravine crushing Tex under its weight.

Bess watched as the cowhands pulled into town and even though she knew what had happened she did not appear too overly concerned to those that knew she and Tex had planned to get married.

She became the talk of the town, the women hated her, but she never let it bother her. She would prance downtown in her fancy garbs, twirling her parasol and flirt with all the new cowhands. When her occupation caused the stray dogs to follow her around sniffing at her skirts she would head back home and soak in the tub that Tex had paid good money for, then head back to the saloon.

On Halloween night, the saloon was full of young cowhands looking for a night of pleasure. Bess was at her peak, taking on one, sometimes two at a time in the upstairs bedroom.

She came down the stairs laughing and bellowing out her bawdy jokes, spilling beer on her skirts then pouring the rest down between her breasts. She yanked up her skirts as she braced her foot against one of the tables. A cowboy's hand worked feverishly between her thighs as she leaned over the table and grabbed a mug from another and planted a hard, tongue driven kiss between his lips.

A storm was brewing, not only outside but inside the tavern as well. Bess was so wrapped up in her sexual escapades that she didn't notice either one.

Thunder rolled and lightning struck. A blast of wind shattered the windows blowing glass in every direction. Bess's heart beat erratically in her chest as she saw a tall figure filling the space of the door, a glint of fire in his hair. He walked towards her and grabbed her forearm twisting her around so that her body meshed up against his. She screamed and struggled against him but he drown out her frightened clamor when he covered her mouth with his.

Everyone backed away and watched as the two slow danced across the wooden floor covered with broken glass. He held Bess's hands firmly behind her back as she continued to scream and fight against him. The more she fought the tighter his grip became until she began to melt.

The storm continued to rage, rain poured through the windows and they continued to dance until nothing was left of Bess except a dress that the tall figure held in his hands.

He dropped the dress on the floor, tipped his hat, smiled and walked out of the tavern. To this day no one really knows what happened but their fairly sure that ole' Tex got his revenge.